


Can't deny it...

by MirandaFandomette



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, gotta conserve body heat, one bed for two, stuck together during a snow blizzard or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 15:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16915080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirandaFandomette/pseuds/MirandaFandomette
Summary: Jean and Armin stuck together in a cabin with only one (disgusting) bed during a snow blizzard.It escalates kinda quickly but then there's tension. And then there's some sex. Nice, consensual but also awkward cause it's probably a first time or something.





	Can't deny it...

-There's only one bed...

\- Well, can't deny it.

It's a fact. One bed for two in the middle of an almost empty tiny wooden house that was almost entirely buried in the snow. They had thought they were lucky; to Armin, it seems like they still are:

\- I mean... there's one bed. It's a chance!

Jean, who has already reached it and is examining the sheets, comments:

\- It's a bit damp and it smells like a dirty old drunk man...

\- I prefer it to snow, Armin replies.

He checks the table (the only other furniture in the room) and leaves their crystal lamp there. The room is small but so empty it seems bigger somehow. There are naked shelves and a frame with no picture in it hanging on the walls, a few tools on the floor, everything you need to clean a rifle and some munitions, old boots, and empty cans. ~~and~~ The chimney is covered with ashes but there's no wood to start a fire. He shivers.

\- We should burn the table, Jean asserts.

\- Too damp, Armin objects.

He sighs. Probably there are some wood outside but they can't reach it. They have to wait for the storm to calm down and it's better in here than outside. He walks across the room, arms crossed over his chest, considering the best options. Lost in his thoughts, he whispers words that Jean can't understand, but Jean’s used to that and takes the blanket to shake it. Some ashes fly in the room. It makes Armin sneeze.

\- Sorry, Jean says, I just want to get rid of the smell; we should burn it for that, but we can't start a fire...

\- How thick is it? Armin asks.

\- Pretty thick, Jean answers, and the all thickness smells like dirty old drunk man... every single inch.

\- I can make do with it and you should as well, Armin explains. Remember Shadis' survival class? If we don't want to freeze to death we should get under this. It seems drier than anything we're wearing.

He starts undressing as he talks and realizes he should get closer to the bed. The prospect of crossing the room naked seems almost deadly. Jean stares at him, a bit surprised, then realizes what he implied and checks on the mattress to see if it's alright.

\- Damp as well... but not wet. I wouldn't say the same of my under...wear.

He gulps as he ends up his sentence staring at the flashing sight of Armin fully naked sliding under the blanket, shivering and trembling in the cold.

\- Please join me fast, Armin orders, trying to remain calm while his teeth chatter.

\- So... sorry.

Jean tries to reason with himself. It's absurd. Really it is. Surreal at least. But also, he realizes it's the only solution and manages to convince his brain that it's alright to share a bed with Armin fully naked to conserve body heat as Shadis told them. Thinking of Shadis is a good thing, it distracts him from the sight—forever engraved in his eyes—of Armin's slender but muscular body red with cold, his nipples so erect he bets they’d be painful to touch though the idea is kind of arousing.

The cold is really distracting, luckily for him. He gets rid of his own damp clothes as fast as he can considering the fact that they stick to his skin so much it actually hurts. He can't withhold little cries of pain and surprise as he realizes that his numb body can still feel. He then joins Armin in the bed. Even though the sheets are indeed humid, the presence of his friend's body has already heated them. Jean looks at him; he seems to concentrate his mind to heat the place, his eyes shut and his lips pressed together so much they almost disappear. Jean hesitates to get closer but it's Armin who approaches and presses his body against his. A chill runs through his body as his warmer skin comes into contact with Jean's freezing skin. He stays still an instant. Enough time for Jean to remember how to breathe. Why is he so aware that it is Armin’s body? Why does he have to think that Armin is naked and that they've never been so close under such circumstances? It's absurd.

For what he knows they could absurdly die here. Maybe that's why he can't stop thinking about _that_...

He tries to reason with his quickly escalating brainthat is currently trying to identify which of Armin’s body parts are in contact with his. Armin’s touch almost burns him; he can feel his hands, one against his torso, and the other on the middle of his back, drawing him close. They could be closer still, but despite his practical mind (and probably out of respect for him, to avoid their genitals bumping unexpectedly), Armin's legs don't intertwine with his. Jean can only feel their thighs touching.

Armin starts rubbing his hand against his arms, which pushes the blanket away. He pulls it back over them, covering their heads. It really stinks, but Jean tries to focus on the tiny smell that doesn't repel him... Armin's hair. It's not a perfume, it's just the smell of his skin there. As Jean focuses on it, without realizing it, his face comes closer to Armin’s.

\- Are you alright? Armin asks.

His voice isn't troubled, just curious. Jean blushes, caught in the act, sniffing him like a dog. He hopes the light of the crystal that pierces through the blanket doesn't reveal his trouble. To hide it, he pulls away with a:

\- Damn, it really stinks here, it's stifling.

But as his head peeks out of the blanket, he realizes the cold air has become painful to breathe. He buries himself back under the blanket.

\- It really is efficient, he comments, the heat difference is striking.

\- Yeah... can you please stay still for a bit, you let some cold air in, Armin asks.

\- Oh, sorry!

Jean hesitates, but Armin's skin is so close, he can feel every shiver. He starts to pull him closer but stops himself to ask:

\- Is it ok if I...?

\- More than that... Iadmit it's much wanted. I'm such a twig. I came here first but you're already the heater...

Armin stops talking and it's not the cold that makes him shiver when he feels Jean's big hand on the small of his back. He's mortified at the thought that probably Jean can feel everything and has probably realized that it wasn't the same kind of reaction cold usually causes.

\- I have no merit, it's the contact that's heating, Jean sighs against his hair as he pulls Armin closer and closer.

Armin can no longer smell the dirty blanket, his nose is buried against the crook of Jean's neck and all he can breathe is his musk. His heart skips a beat and the rate then increases furiously. Armin tries to calm down, realizing that Jean can probably feel everything, but he doesn't want to pull away and can't anyway. Focusing on his own feeling, he doesn't realize that Jean's breath is as uneven as his and that the pounding in his chest is also pretty violent. Armin closes his eyes and, in an impulse that he vainly tries to control and that has probably by now little to do with cold, finally dares to push his knees between Jean's firm thighs.

\- Is it ok?

\- Y... yeah... Jean lets out weakly, almost moaning.

It hits Armin right in the stomach and he's not really surprised to realize that Jean is also starting to get hard.

And now, what?... They're likely to be both fully aware of what's going on. And the situation is desperate enough to try desperate actions, isn't it? Still, both their minds are filled with doubts and unreasonable voices saying they're imagining this and should stay still and not hope too much. « After all, unwanted hard-ons happen all the time, right? And they're not necessarily justified by some sort of feelings and/or want for an intimacy », Armin reasons to himself. The only thing Jean is able to think is « shit shit shit shit » and as he notices the contact between his thigh and Armin's half erect..., the « shit » turns into « fuck ». In the background, the translation is: « this is not happening. This is not happening ». He stays perfectly still and so does Armin. They're so aware of each inch of their respective bodies that it's almost painful.

\- A... are you? Jean finally dares to ask.

\- Am I what? Armin asks.

He perfectly knows what Jean is talking about but he doesn't want to talk about it. What he'd like to do right now would be to rub against his warm skin, smelling his neck and listening to his moans. Instead, he adds before Jean can even come up with the beginning of an answer:

\- If I am then you are...

\- Well... can't deny it.

Armin frowns, then chuckles, then frowns again. Why is it so easy for Jean to take it so lightly?

\- Why?

\- Erm... I... I guess I have a thing for dirty old drunk man smell, Jean jokes.

Armin doesn't chuckle, he only frowns.

\- And also... we're... pretty close, Jean adds.

Armin feels his panicked breath in his hair. He's not as relaxed as he’d wish.

\- Can't deny it, Armin says.

Jean laughs softly in his hair and Armin feels like his body is melting at this sound. It never lasts though, he wishes for something that would help him reach that state for good. Or at least, a while. He's suddenly fighting the imperious desire to kiss and bite Jean's neck. His lips brush against it.

\- Well... this is definitely awkward, Jean says, but I'm glad it's with you.

\- Yes... me too actually. And that you also have one... so we're even.

\- Yeah... it's balanced.

Talking about it doesn't exactly make it stop. It's not getting worse though. They're still perfectly still, breathing heavily against each other's skin.

\- We... should part for a second, time to calm down, Jean hesitates.

\- Is that what you want? Armin asks.

\- Yes... but no... no, in fact no. I'm afraid of the cold, we should stay close.

\- Yes...

It's almost stifling here though. Armin's breath against Jean's skin turns into little drops of water. It makes him realize how thirsty he is. He really doesn't want to pull out of Jean's arms but at the same time, the situation is so overwhelming that he is glad to find a pretext to get away from him. He pushes him softly and tries to look at him, seeing the line of his forehead nose and cheekbone hit by the light of the crystal through the blanket. This movement makes their profiles really close, the tip of Armin's nose brushes against Jean's chin and then touches his own nose. Jean wonders what he wants. Is he trying... is he trying to kiss? He doesn't dare to ask. They stay for an instant looking at each other without seeing each other because they're so close, breathing the same humid and warm air that makes them pant.

\- So... sorry, Armin whispers.

Jean closes his eyes. Armin rolls on his side and, sliding his arm from under the blanket, he grabs something outside of the bed that is obviously very cold considering the chill that runs through his whole body. He quickly pulls it back under the bed and Jean feels the utterly disagreeable contact of a metal gourd against his elbow. Armin tries to avoid touching it with his skin. He opens it and tries to drink but then realizes...

\- Oh... silly me! Of course it's frozen.

He's frowning and, after having considered other options, decides that he really needs to drink quickly, that he shouldn't impose this on Jean and, having checked that his skin doesn't stick to it (which could hurt), puts the cold metal gourd under his own body on the warmer zone, his sweaty back. It really is painful and he starts shivering, gritting his teeth.

\- What the... Armin?

\- I just... want to drink, Armin answers, trying to sound casual.

Jean can't help but look at his tensed body, his back arched, his little white hair up on every part of his skin, goosebumps running on his arms. He doesn't think and covers his body with his own, grabbing the blanket to keep it closer to their skins and catch the remaining heat.

\- You're really stupid sometimes, he swears in his hair.

\- De... de...dehydration is also a cold trick, Armin stutters in objection.

\- I dunno then, lick my sweat. Don't torture yourself!

Jean doesn't realize what he’s said until his eyes meet Armin's who's as red as can be.

\- It'd be salty, Armin objects, looking elsewhere.

He then looks up to Jean, who avoids his look by leaning closer, burying his face in his hair. Their skins meet. His warmth is delightful. Armin sighs with contentment.

\- Put it between us. It'll melt more quickly, Jean suggests.

\- Are... are you sure?

\- I'm thirsty too, what do you think.

As he moves, pushing his hips up to grab the gourd under his back, Armin realizes that despite the distraction, Jean's beginning of an erection is still there. He shudders and hopes it's read as related to the cold. The gourd is already less cold and the condensation makes it wet. Armin places it in between their two stomachs. As Jean comes into contact with it, he starts a long series of swearwords whispered in Armin's hear. Too distracted by that, Armin doesn't react even though his belly is more sensitive than his back. He tries to help Jean by holding him in his arms, rubbinghis back. He doesn't really know what he feels anymore, extreme cold, extreme heat, that wetness, that hardness, Jean's whispering, humid breath against his moist ear and damp hair, their shivering skin. He doesn't know where his body starts and where his ends. Spasms runs through his body in sympathy to Jean's. They're so close and while he usually never struggles with words, he's unable to talk.

\- This is so weird, Jean finally lets out.

He straightens up a bit, enough for Armin to see that he smiles. He smiles in answer.

\- I... won't...

\- Won't deny it.

They say it together and chuckle. Jean leans closer again. He likes to be like that even though he then can't see Armin's face. The latter whispers:

\- I think the water is ok... or at least we can drink part of it.

\- Yeah.

Jean takes his time to pull away from him and as he gets on all fours and is about to roll on his side, Armin's hand on his back holds him back.

\- Stay, we still need the heat.

Jean is relieved to hear that although, despite the gourd, the parts of his body that are in contact with Armin's skin are sweating. « Lick my sweat »... right now, it seems like an option.

Armin opens the gourd and takes a sip that makes him wince. He gulps and Jean feel him shatter. A bit of water drops from his mouth. It shines on his lips swollen with cold. He wants to kiss it. He wants to drink from his lips and fights that ridiculous impulse by looking away. Armin hands him the gourd.

\- It's still cold.

\- I can feel it.

He drinks too fast and it's too cold; it hurts his teeth and he almost spits it all out. No, he shouldn't waste. He can feel drops running on his chin, falling... on Armin's body probably. He apologizes and closes the gourd, which he then puts aside.

\- So, Armin says as Jean gets closer and rubs against his torso before laying over him again, careful to not crush him, so... You... we're still hard.

It even got a bit worse to be honest. Jean lightly touched some sensitive parts while moving, Armin's hip bones, his stomach, his nipple...

\- Well... erm... yes, Jean admits.

Armin takes a deep breath and then asks the very prosaic thought that has been in the back of his mind for a while now.

\- Do you want to do something to help it?

\- Yeah, I'd like it to stop. We should talk about Eren, Jean suggests, raising his eyebrows in a fake exasperation.

Armin laughs, although it really is the last thing he wants to do. It takes him some courage to push forward but before he can clarify his idea, Jean adds:

\- I guess we could... erh... make it disappear in another way but... man, it's embarrassing!

He muffles frustrated groans in Armin's hair. Somehow, Jean's admission of his embarrassment and of the will he has to « take care of it » help Armin to calm himself completely. He can't help but smile and dares to move his hand from Jean's back to his hair. He shudders but then relaxes as Armin whispers:

\- Yes it's embarrassing.

It's not what he says, but the tone of his voice. He's very calm and almost, Jean realizes, tender. He tries not to overthink and goes with his guts. It's not so easy but if not now, when? He starts to caress Armin's arm lightly with the tip of his fingers. Despite the fact that basically the entirety of their bodies are in contact, this touch feels different. All of this was wanted but here, it's openly wanted. Armin's skin trembles. It's so intense and yet so tiny. Is it the cold? The heat? The intensity? Jean is so moved he feels like crying but he then feels Armin fingers tightening in his hair, grabbing him, pulling his face closer. Once again, their profiles are very close, the tips of their nose barely touching.

\- Yes?

\- Yes...

Jean closes his eyes and lets Armin pull him gently into a very soft kiss. Their lips are still cold with the water. The touch is so gentle and delicate while their bodies are already so entangledthat each slight move could be obscene. As they quickly deepen a much wanted contact, Jean can feel the coolness of the water on Armin's tongue. His mouth is so hot though. Their lips part to breathe, to pant, and again they touch, again they breath inside each other. Jean moans through the kisses. Everything burns in a good but frustrating way. He's overwhelmed by the need to be even closer, to fuse in the heat. As they part again, he lets out silly and genuine thoughts:

\- You're the smartest person I... ah... I know and I'm pretty smart myself... ahn... Armin... I admire you so much... and your body is so nice... I've liked you... I've liked you... I've liked you for a while... I like you... mmh...

\- Feeling's... mu... mutual, Armin stutters.

He tries not to think of how silly they must look. He has his legs wrapped around Jean's waist and caresses his soft ass with the tip of a toe. How silly is that? How nice it feels. His skin is so soft there. He keeps grabbing, catching, pulling him as close as he can. He can't breathe and soon interrupts to grab the water and drink more. It's still cold but totally unfrozen. Without thinking, he keeps a bit of it in his mouth and shares it with Jean in a kiss. It drips on their chin to Armin's collarbone, it makes him shudder. He managed to stay silent till then but let out a little cry of surprise that turns into a moan when Jean starts kissing his neck with his cold mouth, biting his sweaty skin, his tongue running over it. Soon he goes further down, licks the drops on Armin's collarbone and reaches his nipples. They're so hard the contrast with Jean's cold and soon hot saliva send spasms through Armin's body. His back arches.

\- Can you... can you suck on it? Can you bite... can you... whatever... oh god!

He digs his nails on Jean's skin. It's so good. Without thinking he starts grinding against him. He can feel him getting harder and wet. Jean is on his neck again, sucking, biting, whatevering. He feels so good right now, he's on the edge. Their moves get more frantic. They frot, his dick sliding between his stomach and Armin's, rubbing against his sticky dick as well. Soon they kiss again. It's as messy as can be, Jean is unable to think properly, he's only certain that it's shared as he parts a second to watch Armin's face, eyes half closed, eyebrows frowned, whining through his closed mouth. It's so hot, Jean closes his eyes and groans in his orgasm, biting Armin's neck deeply. It doesn't take long for Armin to join him. He sounds almost surprised and tightens his grip on Jean's body, digging his nails deeper into his skin. They shake together in the last waves of their orgasms, not fully aware where they begin and end in that hot mess that they’ve become. Finally, Armin lets himself fall with deep breath.

\- Well... it was... something.

The « something » worries Jean but he's reassured by Armin's smile. He leans on Armin's torso which allows his partner to caress his messy hair. They stay still for a bit, breathing heavily, recovering from the frenzy that felt so good.

\- I... Jean starts.

And that's when suddenly, they hear a massive creaking noise and the cold wind of outside hits them through the blanket.

And with horror, they recognize the voices of their comrades.

\- I told you I saw light! There they are! They found a shelter!

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So there was that weird meme on twitter about what fanfiction trope you were depending on your month of birth and I was the "stuck together with only one bed in the room" and I told it to my comrade @goodguyjean who challenged me to write a Jearmin fic with that trope in mind...  
> or I self challenged myself cause goodguyjean said she'd like to read a Jearmin fic with that trope and I'm eager to please her. She's a good lad.  
> Also you should check my tumblr while it's still alive (lol) I'm likely to post arts I made about that fic : http://mirandafandomette.tumblr.com/


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